A.S There was once an old man who owned a farm. The old man did everything that he needed to do around the farm. But at 12:15 in the morning he heard a loud sound outside in the barn, so he got out of bed to check and see what the sound was. He put on his every day clothes, and with a flashlight in his hand, he walked into the barn and heard a deep voice.
"Could you kindly turn off the light? It is hurting my eyes.”
The farmer was full of fear at the thing he saw. It was a big, misty, dark gray fog with red eyes, but the eyes looked like a humans but, then again, it was a misty fog so it was hard to tell for sure. The farmer could now see that the figure was some sort of creature.
"Hello, Mr. Foster sorry to wake you up at this time of night. I have traveled far and needed rest. I will leave tomorrow night after the sun has set.”
Mr.Foster was very scared and dropped the flashlight.
"Ummm….. what kind of monster are you,” asked, Mr. Foster.
The monster was still staring down at Mr.Foster and it looked as if he was about to leave. Then, the monster said, “I am no monster, nor am I a demon or an a angel. I am as simply a thing; a thing that knows everything. I even know how I was made, but people just assume I am a monster. All men of god think this.”
The farmer seemed very interested in the monster’s background story so, he asked, “Can you tell me how you were made? And, how other monsters were made too ?”
So, the monster started the story of how all creatures were made. He told the farmer that they were made by childrens imaginations, or by their fears. This is why children and women have gone missing lately. Now, you may wonder why it is that children can imagine that they can see monsters without even trying. Some monsters may feed off their fear. They often take more women than children because they are older and there is more fear to feed off of.
Mr.Foster then asked, “How were they made though and how did they become monsters?”
So, the monster said, “Well, the demons got the best of the monsters which is a disgrace to all of man-kind. But, some of what you call monsters are made by one child’s imagination which has been corrupted by sins in the world; like bright colors that have been darkened by the cold world.”
The farmer was shocked by all he’d heard but still had three more things to ask the creature.
“What about all those stories of fairies or giants? Are they real, and do they feed off of children's fear too?”
The monster crossed his arms and then turned until he was facing the wall, giving the farmer the impression that he was asking too many questions, but he couldn’t tell for sure if he was tired or upset.
“Fairies and all those other stories are real, but there is no such thing as princes or princesses. The good monsters only feed off of children’s nightmares so that the children do not need to live in fear by their nightmares.”
Mr.Foster thought long and hard before asking his last two questions. “What about the ones that were not created by a child’ imagination or nightmares? How did they come into this world?”
The monster turned back, facing the farmer again. “Well, that depends on what happened to them. Some think that they need to have a child so that they can feed off that child’s fear, but they are mistaken. All the good monsters die to fight off the bad ones.”
The farmer thought, just one more question before they both head to bed. “Did you have a child? If you did what was the name that child called you?”
The monster look down at the ground while clenching his hand into a fist. He seemed very upset but answered, “Yes, her name was Christy and she was only six years old when she made me. I was a knight and I had armor and I always re.. remember her long, red-orange hair. She wore a sweater over her summer dress whenever she went outside to play. One day – it will be a day that I will never forget – I was outside waiting for her, and when she came outside she was wearing a black dress. She told me that she had to go. That her mother was dying. She wished that the doctor’s could have saved her, but she died during the night. She said she would come back. Her voice was soft and when I tried to hug her in comfort she pulled away. Her mom had been in the hospital, ill with cancer, and when she died it was the day before Christy’s birthday. Christy was happy that her mom was no longer in pain but there was great sadness in her eyes. It made me upset to see her sad. When she came back home she ran into my arms and cried for a very long time. And then, I heard a sound and it was the sound of one of those demons. I thought there was only one, but I was wrong; there were two. One came after me and the other chased after Christy. She was screaming for me and I tried to help her by covering her body with my own, but they clawed and ripped away at my armor. She was screaming so loud and there was blood everywhere, I could hardly move. There was such horror in her voice and such pain. I was so horribly wounded that there was nothing I could do for Christy. Finally, it was over. My Christy was dead. She was completely gone. There was no life in her eyes; no smile on her face. Sadly, her drunken father was sleeping in his room and had heard nothing. After I recovered somewhat, I picked her up and took her to her room although the blood was making it hard for me to keep a hold of her. I placed her on the bed and just sat there, silent… not making a sound. When the clock struck ten, the room suddenly began to fade away, as if it were turning black. Then, from out of nowhere… he came. Death had come to take Christy’s soul away. He said to me that I no longer had to sit here and grieve for my Christy because she was going to a better place than this world. Then, he put his hand on my head and my brain was filled with knowledge and he gave me a new name. I was to be called: The Unknown. I still buy flowers for my Christy and leave them by her grave. I know she is safe because some nights – and only at night – I can see her ghost. Because of this, I have become a creature of the night.
The farmer was surprised by all of this, and said, “So, all vampires, dragons, and fairies are all real. Thank –you for telling me your interesting tale, but I must get some sleep. It is already after 6:00am. I must get going. You are welcome to stay the day here and depart this evening.”
“Good night, Mr.Foster and thank-you.”
The next evening when Mr. Foster checked the barn, he discovered that his uninvited guest had indeed departed. He wondered if he would ever again encounter The Unknown. He thought it was truly remarkable the the mind of one child could create such wonders.